


We Don’t Know What’s Out There, Could Be Wolves

by orphan_account



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bisexual Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Canon-Typical Violence, Ciri Deserves Love, Family Fluff, Fuck Mistile all my homies hate Mistile, Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg are Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon's Parents, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Multi, No Beta We Die Like Mistile, Not Beta Read, PTSD written by somebody actually with it, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, The Skellige Isles (The Witcher), The post-game fic nobody asked for but we all needed, Triss literally just doesn’t exist in this lmao, Witcher Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, somewhat canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28213872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the events of The Witcher 3, Ciri gets to figure out her sexuality in a healthy way, explores the world as a witcher, and settles into a comfortable life roaming Skellige and The Continent with her father, mother, friends, and her newly acquainted lover.CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WITCHER 3 AND THE BOOKS! (Witcher 3 endings this work is based off of are in Notes)UPDATES: Every Tuesday (Hopefully)TITLE FROM: “Wild Blue Yonder” by The Amazing Devil
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Original Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Kudos: 5





	We Don’t Know What’s Out There, Could Be Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS (READ PLEASE): Ciri has a dissociative episode where she has flashbacks of her being sexually assulted (I’ve put 🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺 when it starts and 🐺🐺🐺🐺 when it ends so you can skip if that makes you uncomfortable or is a trigger!!! Please skip if you need!!!,) discussions of injury, slavery, and violence towards both monsters and monsters who happen to also be humans
> 
> WITCHER 3 ENDINGS THIS IS BASED OFF OF: Ciri becomes a witcher, Geralt chooses Yen (though doesn’t retire), Ceyrs becomes queen of Skellige, and Lambert and Keira get together

Geralt and Ciri stood atop the tallest mountain in all of Skellige, gazing at how the bright sun rose over the small town of Svorlag and cascaded a beautiful rainbow lightshow across the sky. It was the morning before Ciri’s first job as a witcher, and an absolutely gorgeous one at that.

Geralt cleared his throat and turned to Ciri. “Alright, Ciri. This is your first contract. You will be completely on your own. I will not be able to help you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Geralt.” Ciri answered confidently with a nod.

“Good. Have you added the correct oils to your swords?”

“Yes,” Ciri pulled both her swords out of their scabbards and held them out for Geralt to inspect. “Hybrid oil for the sirens on silver, and Hanged Man’s Venom for the pirates on steel.”

Geralt looked down to see that swords were in fact accurately oiled. Geralt had even noticed that the slimy green of the Hanged Man’s Venom had been brewed to a much higher quality than even he was able to make, and was thickly and evenly coated across the blade. She’d definitely be giving those pirates an extra strong gutting. 

Very satisfied, Geralt nodded his head. “Excellent. And your bombs?”

Ciri carefully put her swords back into their scabbards and tapped on her belt where both bombs were attached. “Grapeshot and Dancing Star,”

Once again, Ciri was perfectly on track.

“How many batches?”

Ciri rolled her eyes and laughed. “For Melitile’s sake. I’ll be fine, Dad. I’ve been preparing for this since I was a kid. You’ve been preparing me for this since I was a kid. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes but I just…” Geralt sighed. He reached out to put a comforting hand on Ciri’s shoulder. “Be careful, witcher.”

Ciri smirked. “Never have been, but I always come out alright.”

Geralt felt a growl accidentally rip out through his throat to which Ciri only responded with another laugh. “Okay, okay! I promise I’ll be careful, alright?”

Geralt smiled, something he found he was doing quite often nowadays. “That’s my Ciri.”

***

They said their last goodbyes, and Ciri began to head down the mountain with the morning sun shining her with warmth and pride.

There had always been something about Skellige that she loved. She’d traveled through so many worlds, but Skellige was something else entirely. Its rainbow mountains and towering cliffs were absolutely breathtaking. 

Its people were a complete hit or miss however. Either they’d praise her skills with a dagger and treat her like any other despite her womanhood and rather heretical dating history. They could even be so kind as Skjall and Astrid, who’d taken her in as she neared death while expecting no coin in exchange for their kindness. And most shocking of all, even when Skjall had Ciri laid out completely unconscious and nude, he completely laid his hands off of her. He had even seemed offended and hurt at the proposition that he’d _think_ of doing anything to her. He was one of the most extraordinary kind men Ciri had ever encountered; and although she constantly expected his gentleman’s act to fall apart, it never did. How she missed him so. 

Then there would also be the cruel Hotspurns of the Iles. But then again, there will always be snakes and Rats in the world. 

***

Ciri spotted the house Geralt had described to her once she reached the village. It was a small stone cottage draped in banners of red and black tartan, showcasing the family as the sole members of Clan an Craite in an area entirely ruled by Clan Brokvar, making it incredibly easy to find. 

Ciri knocked on the door of the quaint cottage, not too aggressively but still with an assertive edge. She took a deep breath in and said, “I’m Ciri. School of the Wolf. Witcher. Here for the siren contract.”

The door opened almost instantly to reveal a girl who looked to be in around her twentieth summer. She had gorgeous curly black hair tied back into an intricate Skelligan braid and lovely short bangs. She wore a smile which bore the strength of a thousand stars, and her dark skin glowed golden against the morning sun. She was dressed in full black Skelligen armor with a pelt of black fur draped across her shoulders. She walked with a slight limp on her right side, and clearly seemed to be some sort of soldier or fighter from how muscular her build was.

Fuck. She was beautiful.

“Oh, thank Freya! Me and ma were starin’ to worry! A witcher has finally come, after all our prayers! And what looks to be quite a strapping one at that!” The girl exclaimed cheerfully with a wink. 

Ciri couldn’t stop the rather embarrassing blush that was starting to heat her cheeks. No. Focus. Witchers don’t get distracted when on the job. She quickly cleared her throat and said, “Well, worry no more, my fair lady.” Fair lady?

“We thank you ever so much. May the gods bless you and grant you strength.“ The girl said. “I won’t have you standin’ out in the cold. Do come in. We need to discuss this contract immediately.” 

Huh. A witcher being invited inside someone’s home. Well, there are firsts for everything. 

Ciri bowed her head in thanks and walked through the opened door. 

The woman plopped down on a large pile of furs which acted as a chair and began to drink from a pint of ale which seemed to come out of absolutely nowhere. “Now, I’m sure you’ve read the notice, aye?” 

Ciri slowly took a seat on another pile of furs just across from her and nodded. “Yes, of course. Sirens being used by pirates as guard dogs to make sure none can get through to rescue their captives. Horrific shit, there.”

“Aye. Those bloody bastards. You know, I almost got mauled by a few of their sirens me-self. ‘Was takin’ my horse on a quaint little ride, when suddenly two of their siren bitches started comin’ at me. Got a nasty claw through the right leg.” The girl grimaced as she recalled the memory. “Had my ma’s good armor on too. Didn’t matter though, still went right through. It’s healin’ now but… Freya’s tits does it hurt.”

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

**This is the part where Ciri starts to dissociate!!! She has delusional thoughts and has flashbacks to her time with The Rats. She does get the comfort at the end of the hurt, but this can still be extremely triggering to read if you experience anxiety or have experienced trauma. Please skip to the rest of the wolves if this might trigger you!!!**

She rucked up the black leather skirt of her armor to reveal a deep red gash on the top of her right thigh with stitches still inside. The wound was rather gross, yes. But that wasn’t what upset her. Her gaze immediately went from the wound towards a red and black tattoo placed exactly where Mistile’s was. 

Ciri’s heart felt like it fucking stopped.

Of course she wasn’t just a kind townsperson opening her door for a fucking witcher out of the kindness of her heart. It had the same colors and placement as Mistile’s tattoo. She could be a Rat. She was definitely a Rat. There was a Rat in front of her. She was going to have to be hurt once again, just when she thought her life was actually going in a good direction.

Ciri felt as though she took a step away from her body, and her eyes grew so heavy they felt like rocks in her sockets. 

Holy shit, this was happening again. She shouldn’t have listened to Yennefer. Things don’t get better. They only get worse. 

Twenty-one in age but sixteen eternally. If the Rats were back, Mistile was definitely back. Didn’t matter if Ciri saw her die, she’d seen equally as many people come back to life as she’d seen people die. She could be around the corner anywhere. Was this woman hiding her somewhere?

Not seeming to notice Ciri’s state, the girl laughed. “Ain’t that just nasty?”

“Get it over with!” Ciri blurted out. 

The woman looked at her with confusion as her eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Get ‘what’ over with?” 

“You’re with The Rats!” Ciri exclaimed.

Though her eyebrows remained knitted, a small smile grew on her face. “I’m only a member of Clan an Craite, lass. Who in Freya’s name are The Rats?” 

“Y-y-you-“ 

“Ah, I see. I’ve spooked you,” The girl observed with a sigh. “Don’t worry, my ma gets the same thing. I’ll get you some bread, mead, and a bowl from the kitchen. Sit tight, love.” 

How dare she pretend to not know of The Rats. Ciri wanted to scream. She wanted to fight this woman. She wanted to get out her daggers and teach her something. But she couldn’t. She felt paralyzed and sat completely still despite her wishes. Fuck. She was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to-

“-so the bread’s not as good as it’d usually be. I pride myself as one of Skellige’s best bakers; but unfortunately when sirens destroy your best oven, you have to stick with what you got. It should still be alright though.” 

The girl held a loaf of bread and a pint of beer in one arm and a white metal bowl with carvings of fluffy pregnant cats in the other. 

“Right. Have you ever had anyone do healing bowl therapy with ye?” The woman asked. 

Ciri felt her brain start to quiet down as she realized no threats were found. 

“No. I-I have not.” She stuttered, still finding it slightly hard to speak. 

”Well it works absolutely miracles. And this particular bowl just happens to have been blessed by Freya Herself. It should do the trick.” The girl said as she plopped down in her “chair” again. 

First she held out her arm for Ciri to take the mead and bread, which she did with trepidation. She then set the white cat bowl on the floor in front of her and grabbed a small metal mallet from under the furs. 

“I’m going to rub this mallet against the bowl, and it’s going to make a fuckin’ great sound, listen.” 

Curious, Ciri leaned slightly closer. The girl took the mallet in hand, and gently moved it across the sides of the bowl as it created a beautiful low sound that vibrated through Ciri’s body in calming waves. 

Ciri felt part of her panic seep away and her heart rate begin to slow. 

The girl looked up at Ciri with a smirk and appeared quite pleased with herself. “Good, aye?” 

Ciri nodded. “Yes. It’s-it’s quite relaxing.” 

“Atta, lass,” The girl praised. “Now, for each time I sound the bowl, tell me one thing you can see. It can be anything. I’ll sound the bowl five times.” 

The girl dragged the mallet against the bowl once again and another deep calming sound filled the room. 

“Now, tell me one thing you can see.”

Ciri scanned the room quickly and said, “Your furs?”

The girl nodded. “Mhm.” 

She sounded the bowl again. “Can you give me another?” She asked.

Ciri looked at her full hands. “The bread?”

”Perfect,” Ring. “Another?”

”The mead,” 

“Excellent,” Ring. “Two more to go!” 

“You,” 

“Exactly,” Ring. “And just one last one, love.” 

Ciri looked around the room again. Her eyes immediately landed on a familiar red and black crest. It was a traditional Clan an Craite crest which also happened to look exactly like... the tattoo she saw before. Oh. So, she wasn’t a Rat after all. 

Ciri sighed, disappointed in herself for jumping to quickly to believe such an outrageous thing. “The Crest,” She said somewhat defeatedly. 

One last wave of vibration went through Ciri and she felt herself calm. Her body began to feel like her own once more and her heart rate was back to a normal level. 

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

**Out of it now :)**

“Well, you’re lookin’ better! Don’t look like you’re about to get knocked out by just a breeze anymore. ‘Was worried, lass. But now you’ve got some color in those cheeks!” The girl beamed. “Mind tellin’ me what spooked you? Don’t want to do it again.” 

Ciri set aside the bread and mead and put her face in her hands. “Gods, it’s so stupid.” She groaned. 

The girl laughed. “Well, these episodes are never exactly sensible. Why, my ma will get them when she sees certain colors or shapes.”

”...Really?” Ciri asked. 

“Aye!” The girl confirmed with a nod. “Though most times it’s caused when people talk of war or if someone brings up old warriors she knew. But it can be anything. The heart can only take so much and sometimes just has odd reactions to things. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Well, if you must know, I had mistaken your tattoo for that of another’s. It... disturbed me quite a bit.” 

“Alright! I shall make sure not to show it to you again! Thank you for telling me.” The girl said. 

“No, I should be thanking you.” Ciri said as she shook her head “Gods, you absolutely did not have to help me through that.” 

The girl seemed confused. “Why not?” 

“Well, I’m a witcher. I’m supposed to protect you. Not the other way around. I’m terribly sorry. That was extremely unprofessional of me. I’m-“

The girl immediately cut her off. “Lass, stop that right now. Your heart has been scarred the same as your face. It happens to almost every warrior. Do not take shame in it. I helped you as much as I’d help anyone else.”

“Oh,” Ciri paused as she took that in. “Well, then I can only say thank you.” 

The girl smiled. “You’re very welcome, love.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Ciri asked, ”May we talk more about the contract now? I believe I am in apt state to do so now.” 

The girl took her pint in hand again and sighed. “Yes. I will have to drink for this, if ye don’t mind. It’s hard on the heart to tell this story.” 

“As long as you aren’t drinking so much as to where you can’t tell it, go ahead. In fact, I’ll have some too,” Ciri took a small sip of the mead she’d been given and her eyes widened at the taste. “Damn, this is actually good”. 

The girl smiled. “Thanks, lass,” She said as she took a frighteningly huge swing of her own ale. “Ah. Good stuff. Now, as I said, first time I saw them was a couple weeks ago when I got my leg cut by that whore of a siren. Thought it was just a regular nest until a couple of boys went out to kill ‘em and saw they all had long ropes attached to their tails. Found out couple of slave tradin’ pirates were using them as fuckin’ guard dogs. How fucked up is that?” 

Ciri nodded with a slight grimace. “Yes, it’s rather vile. The human monsters can be the most disgusting of all.” 

“Ain’t that true,” The girl scowled. “Worst part is that we’ve had women and children go missin’ in the night. Pretty sure those bastards are takin’ ‘em. In fact, the girl I’m helping apprentice disappeared as well. Cute kid, strawberry blonde with sunny skin. Name’s Enya. On her ninth summer. She’s good with a sword, but not good enough to take care of a whole fuckin’ nest of sirens and pirates.” She hung her head and her eyes became slightly glassy. “I can hardly sleep I’m so worried about the lass.” 

Ciri reached across and took the girl’s hand in hers. “Well, I will certainly help you. This is the perfect job for a witcher. I will try my best to find Enya and return her safe and sound.” 

A couple tears fell from her eyes and the woman sniffed. She took Ciri’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

“No problem at all. It’s kind of my job, after all.” Ciri said with an only somewhat forced smile. 

The woman laughed. “Well, I suppose it is.” 

Ciri sighed and prepared herself for the next part of the conversation. This was where things could go very wrong. “I’d help even if it wasn’t, but as it is my job, we do need to discuss payment.” 

“Aye. Shouldn’t be much an issue. I’ve connections to Clan an Craite as you see, and Queen Ceyrs, may Freya bless her, has given me quite a sum. I’ll give you whatever you need.” 

Ciri took a deep breath in. “This will probably cost around one thousand three hundred and twenty-five crowns. I apologize for the price, but this is an extremely dangerous contract. I know that-“

“Done!” The girl agreed. “Would you like the money before or after?” 

“O-oh,” Ciri sputtered, shocked. Usually this part of the process involved at best getting a price only about one hundred crowns less than it should be, and at worse getting mobbed out of the villages she was offering her help to. Not being happily given her preferred sum. “Well, alright then. Um. Half before and half after works best.” 

“Alright! I’ll get the coin for ye.” She said as she got up from her furs. She walked over the to edge of the room towards a large chest with a large lock made of dimeritium. The girl’s hands went into her hair to lift up a pattern of braids, and pulled out a matching dimeritium key. “Smart, right?” She asked Ciri while looking quite smug.

Ciri nodded with an amused smirk. “Yes, don’t believe many would try looking there.” 

“Exactly what I said to ma!” She exclaimed giddily. She then took the key and opened the chest with a flourish to reveal several bags of coin. “Now, what’s half of one thousand three hundred twenty-five?” 

“That would be six hundred sixty-two and a half crowns.” Ciri answered almost immediately. 

The girl whistled. “Yeesh, you answered tha’ quick. You have a fancy royal mathematics degree or somethin’? Go to that fancy ox school in Novigrad?” 

Ciri chuckled. “Well, sort of. And do you mean Oxenfurt? If so, no. Though I do have a few friends who went there.” Ciri explained. 

The woman clucked her tongue. “Talk about friends in high places, right there.” 

She then pulled out seven bags of coin from the chest. “Now, seeing as these are all in sets of one hundred and you asked for six hundred sixty-two, and I don’t want to fuckin’ count that shit; I’ll just give you seven hundred each time.” 

“What? No!” Ciri blurted out in shock. “I don’t want to cheat you out of your money!”

The girl rolled her eyes and scoffed jokingly. “It’s not even my money, it’s Queen Ceyrs’s. She has enough already, I promise ye. I need you to do this job. Plus, you seem like a good lass who deserves a few extra crowns in your pockets.”

“Well, I-alright. Thank you? I’m sorry, you’ve just been overwhelmingly kind. I have to ask, is there something you are not telling me about this quest? Is there a particular reason you’re buttering me up like this?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say I was ‘buttering you up.’ More just not being an absolute cunt to someone clearly in pain.” The girl snorted. “I do have one thing, a sort of request, but you don’t have to agree.” 

Ah fuck. Here it comes. 

Ciri braced herself for some horrid request. Maybe she was going to demand some sexual favor or ask her to commit some gruesome crime for her. But the girl only said, “I would like to help fight the pirates with you. I’m not sure if that goes against your Witcher’s Code or anythin’, but I’ve been wantin’ to hurt some of those bloody bastards. Of course I’ll stay away from the sirens, those are monsters and I am not qualified for that. But you’ll find me incredibly apt with a sword, and I do hope you will let me join you.” 

Oh. That was… much better than expected. 

“Er, yes. You can do that.” Ciri agreed. 

The girl’s eyes lit up in absolute mirth. “Oh thank you, mistress witcher! Thank you for a million suns!” 

Ciri snorted. “Shouldn’t I be thanking you?” 

“Nay!” The girl announced. 

“Alright, then.” Ciri laughed. “Hm. I was planning to go right after this, does that work with-“

“Absolutely!” The girl interrupted. “Let’s go slaughter these sons of bitches, aye?” 

Ciri nodded with a full, genuine smile stretched across her face. “Let’s go slaughter these sons of bitches.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homophobic that I don’t have a strong Skelligen woman to bake me bread and ring singing bowls for me when I have dissociative episodes 
> 
> I listen to a lot of Tibetan Singing Bowls when I’m panicking or dissociating, and I highly recommend you give them a listen! https://youtu.be/kSaOxSLEHfg
> 
> Comments are love!!! 💕💕💕


End file.
